Every Year
by Gingersnaps2507
Summary: A few chapters of Ethan centred fanfic for the anniversary of Jeff's death! WARNING: kind of graphic descriptions of vomiting, sorry haha.. DISCLAIMER: All characters are owned by the BBC not me!
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello! As it's the anniversary of Jeff's death today, I couldn't not write a little something. Not sure how long this will be, but I can't see it being more than three chapters. Hopefully I'll have another chapter up tonight, but it might end up being later in the week! Hope you enjoy this first chapter!**_  
 _ **\- Iris:) xx**_

Ethan moaned, shuffling around under his duvet as he began to stir awake from his slumber, mood immediately falling when he noticed the pounding head that greeted him. He sighed, rolling over so his face was buried in the pillow, sniffing and wiping the tear tracks from his cheeks. The images of the nightmare were fading from his memory now, but Ethan still felt shaky. He knew exactly why he'd had the dream, and why the events of it were so similar to the disasters of the day a year ago today. It was October the 4th, one year since the death of Jeff.

The young doctor let out another shaky breath, wincing as he sat up in bed and his throbbing head caused the room in front of him to spin. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table, sliding the frames behind his ears. He stayed sat on the bed for a moment, twiddling his thumbs, then taking his glasses off, cleaning the lenses, and placing them back over his eyes, before sipping carefully at his water, then beginning to un-button his pyjama shirt, all in a feeble attempt to distract himself from the nausea that was settling itself into his stomach. Ethan was sure that he wasn't ill, and he knew that the cause of his sickness was him getting himself worked up over the anniversary.

Walking into the bathroom, Ethan once again removed his glasses, going over to the sink and splashing cool water over his face with shaky hands. He braced himself on the bathroom counter, knuckles clenched around the surface. His stomach was still swirling, and Ethan didn't think he could take it much more; his anxiety was definitely not failing to make itself known. He quickly dashed over to the toilet, swiftly lifting the lid and taking deep breaths to calm his stomach, leaning most of his weight on to the wall to his right.

Getting himself worked up to the point of feeling sick wasn't all that rare for Ethan, but he couldn't say that he often ended up throwing up because of it.

He felt panicked and hot, and his stomach was sickeningly turning and flipping. His fingers ghosted over the scar on the skin over his left ribs by mistake, and Ethan promptly gagged, stomach acid burning his throat, making the experience more painful than it would've been if he'd eaten yesterday evening. He coughed, back arching as his stomach continued to convulse, splashing more liquid into the toilet.

Breathing heavily, Ethan felt another wave of sickness wash over him, and he pressed a hand to his mouth, swallowing back the bile and wiping away the tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He panted for breath, gulping back more liquid until he eventually was forced to let himself gag, letting everything out into the toilet this time.

Ethan collapsed back into the wall once the nausea had subsided slightly, shakily flushing the contents of the toilet away and taking as many deep breaths as he could. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand - he would scold himself later for the lack of hygiene - Ethan weakly rose to his feet, grabbing his toothbrush and beginning to get ready for what was bound to be tough day at work.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Honestly, I don't think this is my best work, but I'm just happy I managed to update both of my stories today!**_

 _ **Also, as this is only going to be a short story, I won't be replying to reviews. Hope nobody minds about that, and enjoy :) xx**_

2.

"Ethan, we've got a driver involved in an RTC coming in, ETA 3 minutes!" Mrs Beauchamp's voice sounded through Admin after hearing the news from the paramedics over the phone. "You're with Robyn, and Rita is assisting until he's stable," she informed him, less loud this time as the young doctor had further approached her.

"Okay," Ethan replied, placing his notes to one side and, with a sigh, made his way in the direction of the emergency entrance of the hospital.

He nervously awaited the arrival of his patient, twiddling his thumbs with anticipation. This was his first emergency of the day, and honestly, he was trying not to get too worked up about it. He'd already been feeling stupid for being so nervous around everyone and everything because, really, what difference should the date make? It was only numbers.

When he saw Dixie nearing the door however, his previous thought was forgotten, and his heart started thumping around in his ribcage. Almost as if static electricity was pumping through his chest.

"Right, this is Aidan Roberts, 29, he was driving. He's got a head and chest injury and several lacerations to his face. He was trapped for 30 minutes and K.O-ed at the scene. On arrival his GCS was 13, BP stable at 90 systolic, and SATs 97 percent. He's had…. –" Ethan froze, zoning out from the handover. _No, not today, please not today_. This man's condition was almost identical to how Ethan had been when he'd been bought into the hospital exactly a year ago, and the doctor couldn't hold back the river of memories that flooded into his head.

Before he knew it, they'd arrived in RESUS, and several faces were staring at him expectantly, awaiting orders from the lead doctor on what to do next. Ethan was the lead doctor, but he couldn't say what to do. He'd missed the end of Dixie's handover and, even if he was listening, no one would have deemed him to be in the right state to continue.

Struggling to breathe, Ethan felt shaky and feverish. He held his trembling hands out in front of him, in attempt to find something solid too latch on to. Something that would pull his dizzy head back into reality.

"Ethan?" and by that, he hadn't meant Robyn calling his name, because that meant people were noticing.

The prospect of humiliating himself in front of his colleagues only caused him more distress, and Ethan felt sick with panic, breaths rapidly increasing as his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

"He's hyperventilating," he heard the nurse state, and Ethan wasn't sure if she was talking about him or the patient they were supposedly still treating.

"Ethan, darling, what's wrong?" Rita. More people noticing. More embarrassment.

Ethan backed away, trembling and gasping for air. He began to whimper in distress, tears running down his cheeks as his clutched his swirling stomach. He felt choked, and he started wheezing. Oh god, someone was choking him. Who was choking him? It must be as punishment for not be able to treat his patient. Was Mrs Beauchamp choking him? Did she try to kill everyone in her department who stepped out of line? Surely if she did Ethan had no chance of surviving.

Ethan fell to the floor, curling himself into a tiny ball and spluttering and gasping for air. He felt hands on his arms, and immediately tried to get them off, trashing around blind on the RESUS floor.

"Somebody get him out now!" he heard Mrs Beauchamp bark, but everything was spinning around him hazily, and he continued to swipe the hands away from his body.

In the back of his mind, Ethan knew he'd been in this situation before, and he also knew some steps he could take to try and calm himself down. But all he could think about know was trying to get the hands _off_ him so he could _think_.

Head still whirling with thoughts, Ethan squeezed his eyes shut, breaths coming out in small gasps. Heart racing at a million miles an hour, he was a trembling ball on the floor, and he couldn't get himself out of it.


	3. Chapter 3

_**So, here's the last chapter! I haven't done any Chemistry or Maths revision today because I was writing this. Oops! Hope you enjoy it:)**_

3.

"Someone get him out now!" Cal heard Mrs Beauchamp shout as he walked past RESUS and, frowning, he made his way over to where he knew Ethan was working today.

Cal's jaw practically dropped to his feet when his eyes met the sight in front of him.

Ethan hadn't had a panic attack (that Cal was aware of) since he was at school, so seeing him curled up trembling in the middle of RESUS was definitely a shock. What also shocked him was simply the state Ethan was in. He was rocking back and forth, shaking like he was in the Artic and thrashing and shoving at anyone who came within half a metre radius of him. He was whimpering continuously and scratching at his arms, shaking his head as tears streamed down his cheeks.

IV fluids and patient notes were strewn over the floor, faint smears of blood beginning to appear on the surface as well from Ethan's arms and lip, which he had been biting ever since he'd been presented with the patient.

"Cal, you reckon you could calm him down in the staff room?" Rita asked, eyes full of concern as her attention darted between Ethan and the patient.

Cal continued to gawp at Ethan, before taking in the situation more practically and nodding, cautiously approaching his little brother.

"Ethan?" He said gently, slowly crouching down to Ethan's level. He carefully took hold of Ethan's wrists, pulling his scratching hands away from his arms. The younger immediately thrashed out of Cal's grip, curling in on himself even further.

"Come on, Ethan. It's okay. We need to get you out of here, yeh?" He whispered, hesitantly resting a hand on Ethan's shoulder. He flinched, head shooting up in Cal's direction. The older doctor could see the panic swimming in his eyes as he bit down on his tremoring lip, looking as innocent as ever. Tears were flooding his eyes, blood staining his lips as he panicked. "Hey, it's me Eth," Cal said softly, reaching out to take Ethan's hand again.

Both of them stood up from the floor, Ethan swaying on shaky legs. He was still hyperventilating, not getting enough air, and through his panic-ridden mind he could barely think how to keep himself upright.

"Woah, hang on, Eth!" Cal exclaimed as Ethan began to fall towards him, knees buckling as if it took too much energy out of him to simply stand up.

Ethan just stared up at him, brown eyes helpless as he trembled with anxiety.

Cal sighed, smiling sadly and leading his brother to the staff room.

He got Ethan sat down on the sofa, before going over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water for him. The younger was still curled up, trembling as his breaths came out in erratic gasps.

"C….C-can't breathe…Cal" he choked out, squeezing his eyes shut and clutching at his chest as though he was in physical pain.

"Yes you can, just breathe, Ethan." Cal tried to be comforting and encouraging, resting a hand on Ethan's shaking back, though he was sure his last attempt was next to useless.

Ethan whimpered in distress, tears stinging his eyes again. He hid his flushed cheeks in his knees. Cal wasn't sure if this was out of embarrassment, or because of the obvious discomfort Ethan was in.

"Hey, Nibbles, come here," Cal said, a slight sympathetic smile playing on his lips. He knew the situation was in no way amusing, but Cal couldn't help but feel pleased that he was in the position where he could take care of Ethan for once.

He bought Ethan in for a hug, satisfied that he'd at least calmed down enough not to trash out at him again. As Cal had expected, Ethan collapsed into his embrace, sobs racking his frame as well now.

"Hey, calm down. It's okay." Cal soothed. "What's happened Eth?"

Ethan simply whimpered and buried his face into Cal's shoulder, trying to get his hitching breath under control so he could speak.

He pulled away from Cal, opening his mouth to speak, but instead he just shook his head, clamping a hand over his mouth.

The older placed a hand on his forehead, feeling the hot and clammy skin there and brushing his matted hair away from his brother's eyes.

Ethan gagged as a sick sensation swooped through his stomach. He swallowed firmly, blowing out some shaky breaths, but keeping calm was difficult when the one thing he was currently struggling with was _keeping calm_. Tears sprung to his eyes as he tried to breathe through his panic and fight off the impending threat of vomiting.

"Hey, breathe Ethan, you're getting yourself too worked up" said Cal, rubbing Ethan's back whilst looking warily around the staff room in search of a bin or _anything_ he could use if this turned into an emergency.

"Cal!" Ethan said urgently. He was suddenly sat bolt upright with his hand clamped even tighter over his mouth.

"Right, okay," Cal breathed, reaching for the plastic bin in the corner of the room.

Cal winced, holding the bin in front of Ethan. He was gagging and retching, and it sounded so painful, but Ethan's stomach was practically empty so he was only really throwing up bile which Cal knew was no doubt burning his throat.

"Okay, Eth, it's okay," he soothed, holding the back of his hand to Ethan's cheek. "Yeh, you're burning up..."

Ethan coughed, squeezing his eyes shut as his breathing finally began to even out.

"Okay?" Cal asked.

Ethan nodded, but his face was pale and pinched, and tears were still running down his cheeks from the floods in his eyes.

Cal pulled his brother in for another hug, holding him close to his chest as he cried. "Is it the anniversary that's bought this on?" Cal asked in realisation, stroking through Ethan's hair in comfort.

A small nod of confirmation came from Ethan and he pulled away from Cal's arms, sniffing and wiping his eyes.

"My head hurts, Cal…" he whispered, obviously in discomfort if he was admitting it.

"Yeh I'm not surprised," Cal mumbled, putting a hand on Ethan's forehead once again. "You're still boiling, I'll get you some Ibuprofen."

"Thank you," Ethan whispered, swallowing the pills as he sipped at a glass of water. He leant his aching head in Cal's chest, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," Cal said softly a few moments later, just as Ethan was dozing off.

The younger stayed silent for long enough that Cal thought he was already asleep, but eventually he replied in such a quiet and innocent voice that Cal thought he was 10 again. "Then why do I feel like it is. I was driving that car, Cal, how can't it be my fault?" he said, tears gathering in his eyes again. "I should have seen that other car, known that it was going to pull out in front of us. I should have-"

"Shhhh, don't Ethan. How could you have known that man was going to hit you? Besides, Jeff didn't die in the crash. He died saving Ash, doing what he loved." Cal said, wiping the tears from his cheeks and pulling him close. He could feel the heat radiating off the younger's body.

"But what about everyone else, Cal? They might not think that. What about Dixie?" He whimpered.

"Dixie was there Ethan, she doesn't blame you. Nobody does."

"I do." Ethan whispered.

Cal hesitated, struggling to find the right way to respond. He didn't want to upset Ethan anymore.

"See? You blame me too, that's why you're not saying anything!" He cried in distress.

"No, Eth, I really don't." Cal took a deep breath. "For me, that wasn't the day we all lost Jeff. It was the day I nearly lost you." He said shakily. Ethan studied his face, Cal had never bought this up before now, and from what he could tell, Cal was speaking honestly. "So, whatever this guilt is, it's nothing, okay? Nothing compared to nearly losing you. And I promise, I promise, Ethan, that I'm going to help you through this, every year, okay?"

"Okay." Ethan smiled tearfully.

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_


End file.
